" Carefully depositing Winifred on a sofa, Jack then extinguished the light, and, as he unfastened the door, crept behind it. He had set out to win her, and she had let him start. She had no place she loved. He fell backwards on his butt, the wind knocked out of him. The mother, Cathy Beck, was as patient and as charitable of an individual that Lucy had ever known, a big kindly Polish-American woman with the heart of an angel. Ruth loved him.
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